


Dreamlike People

by orphan_account



Category: Dragon Age 2
Genre: Fade Shenanigans, M/M, Piercings, doublehawke
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-05-03
Updated: 2011-05-03
Packaged: 2017-10-18 22:30:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/194007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a prompt on the DA Kink Meme:</p><p>During the Night Terrors quest, instead of being tempted by pride, Fenris is tempted by desire: And he desires Hawke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreamlike People

**Author's Note:**

> Officially decided to continue this later. So, changed to Chapter 1/? to reflect that

_This can't be happening._

That's all Hawke can think as his certainty about where they are, why they are, is slipping out of focus (just like the rest of the Fade). He has a hand phased through his chest that is pinning him to the wall, and the urgent sounds coming out of his throat are definitely not really words. Fenris is gone: this is the look of a possessed man, these are the glassy eyes of a doll, painted in an expression of unquenchable lust.

Behind them he can hear the demon's voice still whispering, soft encouragements. She has taken his form, but to see himself, naked, pierced through nipples and foreskin and draped over Fenris's back with a feral smile is _too disturbing_.

He feels light-headed. His heart is pounding, which hurts, even though this isn't real, that isn't his heart, just his mind's representation of a heart.

Something shifts and changes in this half-realm when he thinks that: but not enough, not enough. He can see Isabela, watching hungrily but unable to do anything, herself. He thinks desperately of Anders-- who had been able to see through the illusions more clearly, since he was possessed-- but when Fenris turned on them, it had been Anders he knocked away first, battering the mage's body so badly he was forced back out of the dream.

Hawke watches what appears to be _himself_ biting Fenris's lip, watches Fenris shudder and croon encouragingly, giving in so easily it's obscene to watch him. The hand not pinning him by his chest comes up, forces fingers past his lips and starts thrusting them into Hawke's mouth, two to start, in a parody of sex.

A knee presses between his legs, and the hand in his chest twists enough that everything goes white, threatening him briefly with a death of the mind far worse than true death. Terrified-- in agony-- he tries to beg for mercy, moaning around Fenris's fingers.

Fenris grinds into him, even as the desire demon grinds into Fenris, borrowing Hawke's form, and the fingers hold down his tongue and force him to suck on them until he's dizzy, until he's forgotten where they are. He has a vague sense that if Fenris kills him, he won't care anymore; not here, or the other place.

Urgently, he moans again, trying to pull his head back to speak, drool trailing from the fingers to his shining lips when he succeeds (however briefly).

"F-Fenris," It is difficult even to say a single word, with his chest hurting so badly it seems it will burst, with his arousal burning and blushing up to his ears. "It--it's not--"

"Real?" The demon supplies, laughing, and her voice is still eerily there, underlaid in her imitation of his voice. "What does that matter? He still has you. And me. And I'll be here forever," she purrs, placing lips that are Hawke's lips on Fenris's throat, tasting the line of lyrium up to just behind his ear and watching him shudder, something almost like intelligence flickering in his doll-still eyes.

Struggling again, Hawke wheezes " _You can have me in the real world, Fenris!_ "

That, oddly, seems to do something. Fenris doesn't withdraw, doesn't stop grinding his dick into Hawke's hips, or biting Hawke's throat (which feels entirely too good but if he thinks about it-- if he--). But he does seem to see Hawke. Something odd and familiar catches the corner of his mouth, a slight frown, an old fear.

"You can," Hawke promises, tears stinging his eyes as the hand in his chest turns slowly, considering the offer. "I want you-- I want you too, Fenris. Please-- please, snap out of it or we'll never get the chance."

Again that searingly close pain, as if he is about to find himself permanently denied access to the very thing that makes him who he is. He gulps for air that isn't real, tastes magic, and wonders what it will be like, to be Tranquil.

Then Fenris's hand slides free, and Fenris-- ashamed, shaking with rage, flushed red-- sinks his claws into the Desire demon's neck, handily ending her.

They proceed with business as usual, saying nothing about what had happened when Isabela is finally snapped out of her stupor, except to explain why Anders was expelled from the strange dream. One foot in front of the other. Hawke keeps a hand over his chest, trying to soothe the lingering pains there, wondering if they are real or something he will forget when he wakes.

Feynriel's plight distracts him only until they finally _do_ slip out of the Fade, the boy excited to try his luck by training as a somniari. He stirs with a feeble moan, feeling as if he has been crushed beneath a very heavy block of stone, or left laying still for years.

And his chest is throbbing white-hot pain with every heartbeat.

Is that-- Anders over him? Calling softly for some root he's never heard of. Fenris scrambling to get it? Isabela is stroking his hair, looking puzzled. He hears the distant chatter of the Keeper, of Arianni. The pain is only getting worse, until some soothing touch of magic on his face makes it ease off. Grateful, he falls asleep.


End file.
